


Alternate Takes

by lilsmartass



Series: First Impressions: DVD Extras [3]
Category: The Avengers (2012), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Avengers teambuilding and they suck at it, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Misconceptions, Misunderstandings, if they just learned to communicate better this wouldn't happen, unintentional bullying
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-17
Updated: 2013-12-17
Packaged: 2018-01-04 22:16:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1086286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilsmartass/pseuds/lilsmartass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU Scenes from the First Impressions, Second Chances Universe. The things that didn't happen that would have made things better, worse, or simply different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alternate Takes

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Iron Man Yes, Tony Stark...Not Recommended](https://archiveofourown.org/works/576665) by [lilsmartass](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilsmartass/pseuds/lilsmartass). 



> Rating: PG-13  
> Disclaimer: Not mine unfortunately, though considering what I put them through, probably for the best.  
> Warning/Spoilers: The same general warnings as the series proper. Angst, Tony feels and unintentional bullying  
> Genre: angst, hurt/comfort, gen, Shipping tags will be added as needed, but the complete series contains gen, het and slash, so it’s a pretty safe bet that all three will crop up in these scenes at some point.  
> Beta: Kerravon  
> A/N: Although there are actually two alternate takes here, I chose to post them as one chapter since they both deal with the same subject matter. Enjoy!  
> The love and support for this series has been incredible so a big thanks to all of you. What allows me to devote so much time to writing fic for fun is actually making money though so, without further ado, I’d like to announce the opening of the Dragon Sanctuary found here: http://www.dragon-sanctuary.com/shop/  
> I’m one of the dragon historians and a good friend of mine personally hand makes all the models. A really unique addition to any fantasy collection! Please check it out and spread the word.

**Take 1: Natasha’s POV, takes place around chapters 5/6 of Iron Man Yes, Tony Stark…Not Recommended**

Natasha returns earlier than she intended from saying goodbye to Coulson. If she was the kind of person to do such a thing, she’d have turned down this assignment and requested compassionate leave; it’s been obvious since she mentioned the mission this morning that Clint needs her, but SHIELD needs her too. In any case, she leaves Coulson earlier than planned in the hopes that Clint will have had time to calm down a little and that they can part on better terms. She hates the idea that the last things they said to one another might be vicious recriminations and blame. And, as with any mission, it’s not impossible that she won’t return.

She heads to her room first, intending to grab her bag so she can leave direct from Clint’s floor. Outside her door is a large, white box. Since she’s alone, Natasha permits herself to raise an eyebrow in speculation. She walks up close and examines the box from several different angles, and then taps it carefully with the flat of her foot. She thinks it unlikely that anything dangerous could possibly have gotten this deep into the heart of the tower, Stark’s security is better even than SHIELD’s, but if her life has taught her anything it is that caution pays.

Nothing happens, and so she bends, scooping the box up and hugging it to her chest while she unlocks her door. Once inside, she’s half tempted to dump it on the bed, grab the duffle on the floor and go to Clint, but curiosity gets the best of her, and she sits to tear into the wrapping. She tells herself that the speed and carelessness with which she opens it is because she has other things to do; the Black Widow _certainly_ doesn’t do anything as undignified as get excited about a surprise present.

Inside the box is the most beautiful ball gown she’s ever seen. It’s a rich, luxurious blue and for a second she hesitates, half afraid to touch it. It surely can’t be for her, no one she knows would buy her such a thing. After a second she carefully and gingerly strokes a finger down the material. It doesn’t feel quite like silk, but rather like some weird amalgamation of metal and water and a slick smoothness that reminds her of vibranium.

She pulls it up, and knows without checking that it will fit her perfectly. Laying it carefully aside, she crouches back down, examining everything else in the box.

She permits herself one last, longing look at the dress, before retrieving it and folding it carefully to put it back in the box.

“JARVIS?”

“Yes, Agent Romanov?”

“I think something for Ms. Potts has been accidentally delivered to me. Can you tell me where I should take it so it can be forwarded correctly?”

There is a brief second of pause then JARVIS replies. “The box outside your door is intended for you, Agent Romanov.”

Natasha blinks her surprise and forcefully supresses the very tiny part of her that’s squealing with glee. “Why?” she asks instead, allowing a hint of suspicion to colour her tone.

She studied Stark extensively for her assignment last year, and this isn’t his usual seduction technique. Besides, bratty little rich boy he might be, but he’s never struck her as someone who’d set his sights on an attached woman. Honestly, if she had been forced to guess which Avenger he might pursue romantically, she’d have figured that both Rogers and Banner rated higher than she. And Stark’s the type that might see something like this, decide it’s pretty and buy one for every woman he knows. That’s just what he’s like. But still, the last Avengers meeting had been bitter enough that she had been so certain that she was on his shit list that she had protected her room against juvenile pranks.

“Is this supposed to be an apology?” she asks after a second of consideration.

Being Stark’s PA hadn’t actually been the dream job Natalie Rushman had made it out to be, but she had still paid attention. And if there was one thing she had learned from Pepper it was that Stark had all the social skills of a hamster. After his ill-conceived – at best – decision to hack their files, this might be exactly the way he chose to apologise. It makes guilt – quickly quashed – flop in her stomach to think that the arrows he had made for Clint that she had sent back might be the same attempt at an apology. She’s not exactly great with people herself, she might disagree with his methods, but she wouldn’t have begrudged Stark an attempt.

“It is not.”

And Natasha raises an eyebrow again because, if she didn’t know better, she’s say JARVIS sounded _offended_.

“It is body armour which Sir created for you to aid you on your mission.”

Natasha looks back down at the dress and pulls it out once more, holding it against herself this time. “Body armour?”

“SI’s latest endeavour is to create body armour which can be worn as regular clothing. This is Sir’s first prototype. The material of the dress and shawl will deflect projectile weaponry, blades, acids and bases and energy weapons.”

“That’s…” Natasha trails off. It’s incredible. She runs a practised eye over the rest of the items in the box. It now seems unlikely that what she is looking at is merely shoes and a purse. She’s glad she didn’t empty it out as eagerly as she had wanted to; she’s lucky nothing exploded. “Is there anything else I should know?”

“The shoes have blades embedded and the heels unscrew to form a second set of throwing knives. The necklace is a locator beacon which will broadcast your location and the items in the purse should be handled with extreme caution.”

Natasha nods slowly, one hand reaching for one of the heeled shoes to see the knives for herself. She debates for a second, before deciding that direct is probably the best way to go. JARVIS is the most intelligent computer she’s ever come across, but he is still a computer. “This is amazing, JARVIS, but why did Mr. Stark make this for me? He and I…we’re not exactly friends.”

The flare of static sounds like a human derisive snort and Natasha can’t help the inward cringe that she is somehow being a disappointment. “I believe your injury during the last battle distressed him.”

Natasha purses her lips, turning that over in her mind. She would never accuse Stark of being unfeeling. He might be a self-centred narcissist, but, if anything, he’s over sensitive. But this box represents hundreds of hours of work, and doubtless more than a few sleepless nights. She’d never have expected this level of empathy either. Unbidden, the hand not holding the now unscrewed heel of the shoe goes to her stomach, idly rubbing at the mostly healed wound.

“Where is Mr. Stark?”

“He is at a Maria Stark Foundation Gala. He expressed a wish to be able to give you this himself, but he is the keynotes speaker for this event.”

That’s surprising in and of itself. Usually, if Stark wants something, he’s more than happy to blow off a few responsibilities. Perhaps the mitigating circumstances at the time of her report on Stark should be re-evaluated. He does seem to be attempting to ‘clean up his act,’ as Clint would say.

Natasha herself is pragmatic and ruthless, but she can’t deny that each and every one of the people she is close to – except possibly Coulson – has been given a second chance that they most likely didn’t deserve, herself included. It unnerves her to think of trusting Stark, (not because he is inherently untrustworthy, he is just unpredictable), but maybe he shouldn’t be irrevocably condemned for past actions either. She wasn’t, and her past is much bloodier than his.

There’s a rattle at the door, and without thinking, Natasha swivels on her heels, levelling the blade at whoever is making their way into her apartment.

There’s a moment of quiet surprise as she and Clint regard each other.

“Tash. I was…I was going to wait for you. I didn’t want you to go thinking I- What’s that?”

Natasha flips the knife at Clint, and he snags it easily out of the air. His professional eye roves over it and he flips it just once in his hand. “Niiiiiiice. R&D hasn’t made me anything this good for ages.”

“It’s not from R&D. It’s new Stark-tech.” She watches Clint closely as she speaks and for an instant there’s a flicker of unease before he wipes it away with a forced grin.

“That’s great, Tash. Stark-tech’s the best, right?”

“So I’ve been told,” she says dryly. “Come and look. Stark’s been busy.”

She pulls Clint down beside her and allows him to show the enthusiasm in digging through the gift that she’d never permit of herself.

“This is cool. Stark still trying to buy his way onto the team?”

“JARVIS says not. My injury apparently upset him.”

Clint grunts. “It upset me too.”

Natasha leans against him, a solid reminder of her presence, buttressing him with strength he can feel. “I know. But I’m fine.”

Clint grunts again and breaks the tension by saying, “Stark never makes me anything this good.”

“Perhaps because you told him he was your butler,” Natasha answers dryly, ignoring another pang of guilt over the returned arrows.

Clint looks at her, and she has to leave in an hour, she has little inclination to start another row with Clint. “You think I should be nice to Stark?”

“I think just because he’s an obnoxious brat doesn’t make him a bad person. It’s obvious he’s trying.”

Clint hums under his breath and turns his face into her hair. “I’m glad you have this to keep you safe,” he admits, so quietly that she can feel the words breathed against her skin almost better than she can hear them.

“Me too,” she answers, even quieter than he was. “I want to come back to you.”

“Promise me you will.”

It’s a promise he’s never asked of her before. It’s a promise they both know they can’t give. But now, when he sounds as raw and desperate as a child pleading for reassurance, even Natasha Romanov doesn’t have the coldness to be realistic. “I will. I promise.” She hopes Stark’s gift is good enough not to make a liar out of her.

They remain silent for a few more moments, Natasha hypnotised by the feel of the fabric armour under her fingers and the weight of Clint against her side.

“I have to go.”

“Yeah,” Clint agrees, but he doesn’t move.

“Will you do something for me.”

It isn’t a question, and Clint gives a short decisive nod next to her that tells her whatever she asks is as good as done.

“Will you pass my thanks on to Stark? He didn’t have to do this. And it is beautiful.”

Perhaps the formality of gratitude that she would normally express in kind instead of words will put enough black in her ledger to earn the forbearance of gods that delight in making people who promise impossible things suffer for their stupidity.

Clint nods again, with no hesitation. He might have chaffed under more gifts from Stark himself, but Clint has never begrudged anything that would keep the people he cares about safe.

She rises. Doing so slowly enough that Clint has time to steady himself before she is gone. With luck, that will be a metaphor for the next few weeks.

“I’m going to change.”

“I’ll pack this for you.”

She nods and crosses slowly to the bedroom. With two doors and a hallway between her and Clint, Natasha speaks again. “JARVIS?” She keeps her voice low. Clint’s ears are almost as good as his eyes.

“Yes, Agent Romanov?” JARVIS matches her volume.

“The arrows Stark sent Clint…will you pass on my apologies to him, please. I may have been…hasty in returning them.” She still regrets the note, but she hadn’t wanted to outright lie to Stark with some fabricated excuse and there was no way to explain fully without revealing more of Clint’s weaknesses than she would ever do.

Still, Clint can forgive Stark any multitude of sins when he is keeping her safe. The least she can do is the same. 

 

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

**Take 2: Tony’s POV, takes place around chapters 5/6 of Iron Man Yes, Tony Stark…Not Recommended**

Tony rings the bell at the front door of Natasha’s suite and then waits, fidgeting uneasily with the box in his hands. He and Natasha have – arguably, if one doesn’t count a life time of being compared to Captain America – the most tumultuous history, and Tony’s not good with people, he’s better with machines. Still, he thinks Natasha is the most likely to understand that he’s not trying to buy his way onto the team; more that he simply wants to help her...them, however he can.

He shivers a little as he waits, sleep deprivation taking its toll by throwing off the rest of his body’s systems. He feels pathetic, like a kitten begging for a treat because it has brought half a dead mouse. For an instant, he considers just leaving the box; JARVIS can explain it, but before he can convince himself that’s the best course of action, the door opens.

Natasha regards him inscrutably. Tony openly gapes. It’s not that he didn’t think Natasha did things like wash her hair, it’s just that seeing her wearing pyjama pants and an old – too big, probably Clint’s – SHIELD t-shirt, hair wrapped in a towel makes her seem less unstoppable ninja and more…human.

“Yes?” she asks, tone curious but not displeased with his presence.

Tony shoves the box at her. “Presents. I thought you might be able to use this when SHIELD next sends you out.”

She blinks at him and then steps back, allowing him into the apartment. Tony flashes her a million watt grin. He hadn’t expected to be let into Natasha’s private sanctum. She leads him into her sitting area and puts the box on the table there.

“Tea?” she asks, heading for the kitchen.

Tony is bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet now, her letting him in having restored some of his usual confidence. “No. No. I‘m fine.”

She nods her acknowledgement, but continues to make herself a pot of some spicy scented tea in what must be the _slowest and least efficient way imaginable._

By the time she comes back, Tony is practically ready to open the box for her himself. Her amused expression tells him she knows it too.

After an instant however, Natasha takes pity on him, putting the cup down at her elbow and opening the simple white box. There’s a moment of silence and then he’s faced with a tolerant expression, like the ones Pepper wears when he does something stupid but not anger inducing.

“Stark. Tony. This is beautiful, but I can’t accept it.”

Tony feels his eyes widen, his smile falter. “What? Why? It’s not…I get that a cool present doesn’t make me an Avenger I just…it’s an SI project. I thought-”

“SHIELD supplies all my clothing for missions. It’s a lovely thought but there’s no point in wasting a dress this beautiful on mob bosses and knife fights. I know you’re not together any more, but wouldn’t Pepper like it?”

Tony gives a relieved laugh. “You underestimate me, Agent Romanov. Whilst, I’ll admit this is beautiful and that you will look exceptionally stunning in it,” he gives her another blinding grin, “this is so much more than just a dress.”

Natasha considers him. “Very well. Explain.”

“It’s body armour.” Tony watches, gratified, as Natasha’s eyes widen and dart back to the dress and then up again to meet his once more. “It’s resistant to anything you can think of. Probably not nukes, but everything else.”

“Impressive,” Natasha agrees stroking the material. “Can I test it?”

Tony rankles a little at that, but he suppose it’s possible that he doesn’t have the world’s greatest record for safety protocols and Natasha probably heard more than a few stories from Pepper. He’d never take chances with his team’s lives, but they don’t know that. “Of course. But see what else there is first.”

“Else?” And for just a second, Natasha’s eyes light up with glee and excitement and she looks like any other woman he’s given a gift too. It makes Tony feel a flicker of warmth inside. Okay, he made a few mistakes at the beginning, but maybe he’s really getting a handle on this making friends thing.

Natasha lifts up the dress, hand apparently unconsciously stroking the blue material before she puts it aside. The simple white shawl flutters to the ground. “More amour?”

“That dress has a pretty big dip in the back.”

“A flaw,” Natasha agrees, but her eyes are dancing and her tone invites him to share the joke without making him the butt of it.

“I thought so. Now, the stockings look normal, but you’ll need to be careful putting them on. If you tug at that seam here, the whole lot will unravel. That cable will take the weight of an elephant and it’s practically uncuttable.”

Natasha nods. “And the purse? Does it shoot lasers?”

“Would you like it to? I can do that. Right now, it’s just an ordinary purse, but the stuff inside it is all for sabotage. Poisons, acid. If you tell me what you need I can design specific items. This was just stuff I thought was cool. And I’m not actually a chemist…maybe when Bruce is back…” 

“It’s fine. This is…it’s amazing. Thank you, Mr. Stark.” Natasha is already digging through the purse, examining the objects inside, though she’s careful not to get any on her bare skin.

Tony lights up at the praise. Whatever else his failings, he’s good at making things. He still hasn’t proven that he’s a hero of the same calibre of Steve Rogers, but he’s not completely useless. “Tony. You can call me Tony.”

Natasha breaks off her examination of the shoes to look up at him. Her expression curious and calculating enough that he falls back a step, but her voice is calm and non-judgemental when she asks, “Why did you do this?”

“I-” he tries not to be sarcastic, he remembers Barton asking the same questions. “I made it. I thought it’d be useful. And I…” he turns away, though he keeps her in his peripheral vision; the Black Widow did once stab him in the neck after all. “I didn’t like seeing you get hurt.”

She nods, and one hand drops lower, ghosting over her wound. “Thank you,” she says again, softer.

There’s a second’s pause. “Would you like me to show you the shoes? There’re knives in them,” Tony offers.

Natasha ignores him. “I have a confession to make, St- Tony.”

This time, it’s he who raises an eyebrow. “Go on. Are you going to come out to me, because I’m not going to lie, it wouldn’t be the first time the thought of how awesome together you and Pep would be has crossed my mind.”

“It’s tasteless to try and turn your ex-girlfriend gay to negate the sting of rejection, Stark.”

He smiles at her, amused by the quick retaliation and obligingly gives her a moment to frame the confession instead of retorting himself.

“The last quiver of arrows you sent Clint…I misunderstood your intentions.”

Tony wipes his face free of all emotion in an instant. “You sent them back. You thought I was…oh yes, buying my way.”

“I-” she hesitates. “Not exactly. But my reasoning wasn’t much more charitable. My apologies.”

“Are you…I’m not going to take this away from you, Agent Romanov. You don’t have to jump through hoops to earn it,” Tony bites out, furious that she would think that of him.

“I’m aware. But that doesn’t change the fact that this makes it apparent that my reasoning was…flawed.”

Tony’s breathing hard by now. “And what was your _reasoning_?”

“Clint is not in a good emotional place to be receiving gifts from _anyone_. Loki framed his taking control of Clint as a _gift_. I thought anything coming from you was bound to come with bluster that he would construe as a price tag and, let’s face it, Stark, your stuff is the best. Clint would never turn it down, no matter what he thought it cost, not if he thought it would let him protect us better.”

Tony’s mouth is still pinched. “I don’t want _anything_ from _any_ of you.” In that moment, it’s not even a lie. His pride has reared its head and is insulating him against the waves of longing for acceptance that have been battering him ever since the Avengers first moved in.

Natasha doesn’t contradict him. “Exactly. I was in the wrong.”

The steady repetition does what little else would manage. It cuts through the burgeoning fury. Tony feels abruptly old and tired. “I’ll send the arrows back up,” he promises. That must be what Natasha wants; she’s right, his stuff is the best.

“Thank you.”

He turns, heading for the door. His head isn’t down and his shoulders aren’t slump because Tony doesn’t _do_ that. He’s spent his life hiding weakness, he’s not going to break that habit now.

“Stark.”

He hides the flinch and turns with a smirk that feels hollow but experience tells him will stand up to scrutiny. “Yes?”

“You want to come downstairs? We were just about to get dinner. You should join us.”

 


End file.
